


and when it's right

by acastle



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Architects, Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, Graduate School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 11:50:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14769056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: “Don’t be stupid. I’m not going to sleep with him,” Junmyeon mutters. “I really will bite his head off.”(Junmyeon and Minseok kind of hate each other. It's a little complicated.)





	and when it's right

**Author's Note:**

> hbd junmyeon
> 
> this took too long, and I'm _still_ not completely happy with it. 
> 
> it moves quickly.
> 
> don't send to anyone.

They keep doing this, and they know it can’t be good in the long run, not when Junmyeon never misses an opportunity to upstage him for the sake of fun, not when Minseok’s gaze changes into daggers and smug little smirk when he ends up doing better anyway at whatever he does. It’s not going to lead to anything good, not when they hate each other and snipe at each other whenever they’re in the same vicinity. 

And yet, this is the fourth time that this has happened. Minseok pushing Junmyeon back on the door to his apartment and slamming it closed, and kissing him, hard and rough and with a lot of teeth and tongue. 

Junmyeon growls with his want, gripping Minseok’s hips and biting at his lips, hates his stupidly perfect face and he’s never been blind to how attractive Minseok was. He’s gorgeous, and had he not been such a massive dick, Junmyeon would go as far to say he would be his ideal type. 

But. The day Minseok had been given the opportunity to present his mini-thesis the start of the semester to an undergraduate class, one that Junmyeon knows he’d just thrown together and hardly worked on whereas Junmyeon had poured out his blood and soul into his own, and he’d done well but not  _ as  _ well, not well enough to be chosen to be the example to the younger students, he’d taken it to heart. It had been a stupid, petty reason to hate him, and they’re  _ graduate  _ students and should be past this kind of useless competition, but it had snowballed, and months later, they’re still at each other’s throats. 

One day, their class had gotten drunk after a test and Junmyeon and Minseok had argued, Minseok just slightly tipsy whereas Junmyeon had been embarrassingly intoxicated, and they went at it, until Junmyeon had grabbed his face and shoved his tongue down his throat and jerked each other off in the club’s bathroom. The second time, they’d been sober and sucked each other off. The third, Junmyeon had brought him to his place and Minseok had fucked him from behind on the couch, too impatient to get to the bed. 

This is the fourth time in as many weeks, and Junmyeon cannot deny how much he enjoys this, loves getting pinned down or pinning down, the push and pull and Minseok knew how to rile him up, and dick him down and make the words fly right out of his head. The fucking was always fun, always good, and he’s never not been satisfied thus far.

And every time, the next time they see each other, they’re back at it again. Arguing in class and within their mutual group of friends and making everyone’s heads ache with how they can be so uselessly competitive.

Minseok tears his clothes off of him, and he gives the same treatment to his clothing, and they make their way through Minseok’s modest apartment, licking and biting and grabbing at naked skin, and then Minseok is pushing him down to his bed, straddling him and shove his tongue back into his mouth. 

“Get on with it,” he’s muttering, and Minseok glares at him, but his smile is sly, rolling his hips down and their cocks are hard, and the friction makes Junmyeon groan. 

“I’ll go along as I damn well please,” he says, and Junmyeon  _ hates him.  _

“Then I’m leaving,” he says, just as Minseok slithers down and takes him into his mouth, all in one go. He shouts, hips bucking, but Minseok takes him well, bobbing his head and getting him even harder. 

“Be my guest,” Minseok says with a snort against the head of his cock, before he goes down on him again, and Junmyeon moans in frustration, turned on out of his mind. “I’ll get off, either way.”

“Fuck you,” he says, and Minseok laughs. 

“I’d rather fuck you,” he says, reaching over and there’s a bottle of lube in his hands, and Junmyeon’s never been desperate for sex, never really sought it out and he’d enjoyed it well enough, though now. Now, he  _ wants _ too much, looks for new ways to aggravate Minseok, looks for ways to get him in either of their beds, to be within proximity of his cock. 

Minseok fingers him open with an agonizingly slow pace, and Junmyeon feels like he’s fallen apart by the third finger, what feels like an hour later. He’s letting out a stream of curses and threats as Minseok gets him open for his dick, and Minseok just chuckles as he goes to tease him further with a hand around his dick, touch feather light and then gripping hard at the base, alternating and Junmyeon is out of his mind with how much he needs to come. 

“This is  _ torture,”  _ he bites out as Minseok spreads his fingers apart inside him. 

“I think this is rather fun,” Minseok says, smirking as he stares down at where his fingers are spreading Junmyeon’s hole open, and he’s moving his hips back and forth, obvious enough with how much he wants to fuck him. Junmyeon, any other time, would make fun of him and torture him in turn, denying him the privilege of his ass, but now, he can’t come up with the words, not when he’s so desperate to come and Minseok’s is preparing him for his cock. 

He’s had enough, and flips them over easily enough, settling on top of Minseok’s lap as he stares up at him, surprised, but his cock jumps, and Junmyeon files this away in his head for  _ ‘later.’  _ Minseok, by any means, isn’t weak, and Junmyeon knows this. Hates it all the same when Minseok drinks him under the table easily, when he wins petty arm wrestling matches or when he beats him basically at anything. To see him turned on and affected by the way he turns them over is childishly satisfying. 

He rolls the condom down with a teasing touch, and Minseok’s nostrils flare, showing his impatience, and Junmyeon scoffs, rattled and irritated, as he’d been the one to want to draw this out. He lifts his hips up, reaching over to hold his cock upright, and sinks down, all at once and he moans at the fullness of him inside, hard and hot. 

He gets his hands on Minseok’s chest, holding him down, and he rolls his hips in figure-eights, moving on his cock and making Minseok groan, reaching out to hold his hips in a tight grip, and Junmyeon is tired of not getting off. 

He rides him, really pounding himself on his cock, up and down and he throws his head back as he fucks down, Minseok thrusting up to meet him, and their skin slapping together is a loud, nasty sound in the room, glorious and making him even harder. 

Minseok’s cock splits him open, perfect inside his ass and Junmyeon’s pace is fast, no wasted movements and needing to come, quick and hard. 

They don’t waste many words this time. The last time, Junmyeon had kept goading Minseok into fucking him harder, getting him to feel it the next day, teasing him and Minseok had called him brat and other names, fucking him harder and asking in an increasingly cloying tone if that has been hard enough for him. 

Junmyeon bounces on his cock, breathing labored as his thighs starts to tense, but he doesn’t stop, relishing in the way Minseok fills him and opens him up, his hole clenching around his length. 

Minseok thrusts up, planting his feet on the bed and fucking him in counterpart to his riding, and Junmyeon yells, throat tearing as he jolts on his cock, sitting on him fully and squeezing his walls around his dick. 

“Can’t, can’t you go any faster,” he huffs out, hands curling into fists on Minseok’s chest as he rolls his hips, and Minseok rolls his eyes. Junmyeon huffs, makes sure to squeeze twice as tightly as he drags his body upward, then back down. Minseok grunts, nails biting into Junmyeon’s skin, and Junmyeon drops down and up and down again, throwing his head back as that perfect spot is rubbed against repeatedly, and his entire body feels like it’s tingling with the pleasure of it all.

Minseok rolls them over all of a sudden, and Junmyeon lets out a short yell as his back hits the bed, and he’s glaring up at him, and Minseok cocks an eyebrow at him, grinning and pushing into him again with a satisfyingly rough thrust. 

“I can’t fucking stand you,” Junmyeon grits out, locking his legs around Minseok’s waist and biting back his moans as he’s fucked, but Minseok just lowers his mouth and starts attacking his neck, licking and nipping viciously.  _ “Don’t,  _ you asshole, it took me half an hour trying to cover up the last one you left-”

“Not my problem,” Minseok just mutters against his skin, and Junmyeon hates just how much it riles him up, how hard it gets him, and when Minseok bites down again, he grunts, heat coiling up in his stomach, needing release.

Minseok may hate him, but to his credit, he’s not a completely selfish, inattentive lover. He must read the need on Junmyeon’s face, as he’s bringing a hand down, and tugging him off with sure pulls, no motion wasted, everything perfect.

Junmyeon comes with a whine on his lips, spilling over Minseok’s hand and over his stomach, his chest. Minseok’s hips stutter at the way he clenches around him, and he’s spilling into the condom a moment later. 

Minseok’s breathing is labored, stuttered as he lifts off his elbows and flops down next to Junmyeon on the bed, chest heaving and skin glowing with sweat. Junmyeon wants to eat him, frustrated that he’s so attracted to someone he can’t stand.

“I’ll get going,” he says, and Minseok stares at him as he stands, going off to clean himself. “Where-”

“Bathroom’s the door across,” Minseok says casually, reaching over for his phone in his pants and unlocking it, and Junmyeon rolls his eyes, sighing. He goes to the bathroom, looks around him as we wipes down the come on his torso, the excess lube, and the place is clean, ordered and homey and it’s not small, nor too large. Junmyeon takes it in, doesn’t know what to make of the passing thought that he has.

_ ‘It’s nice. It suits him well.’ _

His clothes are laid out thoughtfully on the bed when he comes back into the room, and Minseok is in his boxers, carrying a cat in his arm as his free hand holds his phone up to his ear, speaking in his refined tone, “Yes, yes, I can do it, I can have the proposals ready within the week-”

Junmyeon picks up his boxers, dressing up and trying to ignore the conversation ongoing a few feet away, trying to ignore how the cat just makes Minseok even more attractive, for some infuriating reason. Like a man he almost  _ despises,  _ yet on occasion (becoming increasingly more often) would sleep with, a perfectly decent man in every reluctant truth, would be endearing enough to have a cat. 

“I’m going,” he says, and Minseok looks up, still on the phone and holding up a finger, wordlessly asking him to wait. Junmyeon rolls his eyes, but he stays, waits for him to relay his goodbyes on the phone, polite and pleasant. “Client?” he says, trying to sound uninterested, but Minseok’s job working with the n national historical commission was his dream job, something he’d not been encouraged to pursue by his parents. Didn’t pay as well, work required more hours, preserving and revitalizing old buildings, and cultural heritage just wasn’t as glamorous as work in the city. You won’t make a name for yourself, fixing something that wasn’t your idea in the first place.

His own job at his father’s firm paid well, secure and he still had his sleep. It was fine. It just wasn’t satisfying.

“A Catholic church in the city. A fire broke out suddenly,” he says, frowning, but he doesn’t add much else. “How are you going?”

“Was going to call a friend of mine, lives in the unit next to me-“

“He awake, four in the morning?” Minseok raises an eyebrow, scoffing.

“With Sehun, it’s not improbable,” he says, but Minseok’s already set his cat down on his pillow, pulling his pants over his legs. “It’s fine. And why would you get a work call at this time of day, then?”

_ “A fire broke out,  _ you shit,” he says, glaring, and Junmyeon keeps his gaze, not backing down. “I’ll drive you. This place isn’t unsafe, but it’s late. I’d rather not have your death on my watch.”

“How nice of you,” Junmyeon says drily. “But I’m good. Being in a car with you for twenty minutes won’t be good for either of us.”

“Stop being a hardass, I need to get going anyway. Your place is along the way to my site,” Minseok says shortly, sliding on his shirt and shaking his hair out of his eyes. “Now, you can wait maybe half an hour in the lobby and wait for your neighbor and waste more time, or you can come with me now and get a bit of sleep before you go to work or whatever it is you do. I’m offering.”

“Fine,” he huffs out, and Minseok pats his ass lightly to get him moving as he passes by, and he slaps back at Minseok’s, harder, and Minseok just clicks his tongue, barely reacting otherwise and grabbing his jacket, his keys.

He glares at the back of his head, but doesn’t say anything else as they get into the elevator, down to the parking garage, and it had been a bit of a haze, an hour or so earlier. He doesn’t remember much, too preoccupied with needing to get on his dick to notice anything of his surroundings.

Minseok barely needs his directions, remembering where to turn and what streets to take and he must still remember from the last time, and Junmyeon spends the drive instead trying to find fault with the playlist he has blaring on the car speakers, raising his eyebrows at the amount of TVXQ, but Minseok just holds his head high, declaring his love for Changmin casually.

They don’t snipe at each other as much, and Junmyeon thinks it’s the early hour, but Minseok goes on asking him about work, and there’s not much to answer with anyway, so he asks about Minseok’s projects in turn. They don’t talk about their classes, knowing they’ll just argue, and it’s not a completely awful morning, by their standards.

He startles a bit in his seat when he sees his building outside his window already, barely even noticed the time pass by.

“You good here?” Minseok asks him, and even in the darkness of the morning, despite the lack of sleep, he’s still infuriatingly pretty. Junmyeon especially likes his eyes, and he really wishes he didn’t.

“This is fine,” he says, and he pauses, not knowing how to leave. He blinks, saying a quiet, “I really could have called someone, but. Thank you.”

“I’m not completely awful, you know,” Minseok sighs out, and Junmyeon. He knows this, but he still finds himself biting back a retort, really not up for an argument this early in the day. “See you in class,” he says, and Junmyeon just nods, opening the door and climbing out of the car. He stays on the steps until Minseok drives off, and he sighs in the pre-dawn air, entering the building.

“Morning,” he greets the lobby guard, who nods in turn and gives a knowing smirk. He rolls his eyes, and jabs at the elevator button to go to his floor. Minseok’s eyes had widened, when he had seen the building, his apartment the first time. Skyrise, glass everywhere, exclusive elevators per floor, everything looked and was expensive.

A congratulatory gift from his parents after he had passed the licensure exam, his own place in the city, but only after he had bargained his way into moving out. He may not live with them, but he’s still more or less under their watch. It’s his father’s building, after all, screaming of privilege and manicured perfection.

He’s barely closed the door to his place when the bell is ringing. He sighs, opens the door, knowing exactly who’s on the other side.

“So he dicked you down and gave you a ride home?” Sehun says, toeing off his shoes and entering much too comfortably, and Baekhyun is following after him, and they both look much too awake for past four in the morning. “And you hate him? Unrealistic.”

“What’s the relation?” he mutters, and he’d been hoping to get a few hours of sleep before going to the firm, but seems like it won’t be happening. “What are you doing here, Baekhyun? Don’t you have a show later?”

“Wanted Taeil to do it, last show before he leaves to do Les Mis,” he says, grinning, flopping down on the couch. “Want to come and watch tonight? His King George is  _ impeccable,  _ second only to mine.”

“I have to work on the plans for the station tonight,” he sighs, rubbing at his neck, wincing a little at the bruising Minseok’s left. He’s going to have a few choice words with him when they see each other again in class. Or maybe sooner, if they feel like it, which is highly possible.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have given in to the booty call and done some work last night, hmm?” Sehun says, and Junmyeon would throw the throw pillow at him, but he’s too far and it’s too soft.

“I’m going to bed, wake me up in three hours,” he says, sighing, and Sehun waves him off as he and Baekhyun take advantage of his television, even though Sehun’s own set a few doors down is just as big and has higher definition, but someone might as well take advantage of the premium cable he’s paying for but doesn’t use.

He gets a bit of sleep, too little, but Baekhyun flops down on top of him a little after seven and he’s grudgingly awake, and he kicks them out as he’s leaving for work, and the drive is quiet as it usually is. There’s not much to look forward to at a place where he’s still trying to earn his keep, where the work is good but isn’t the type of fire he’d been hoping to tend when he’d chosen this profession. 

He ends up watching the show with Baekhyun, Sehun, and Chanyeol and Kyungsoo from class that night, if just to forget about the bitingly dull day he’d had at work, of plans emptily praised, only to be told to revise them even more and adding to his work, and it’s all fine. Just not satisfying. 

If anything, for tonight, Taeil’s King George  _ was  _ impeccable. 

.

“You’re  _ joking.” _

“You two would work well together,” Heechul says with a beam much of bright and smug, and Chanyeol and Luhan, Yifan and Kyungsoo watching them with no subtlety from their own places around the table.

Minseok had just sighed, leaning back on his chair and staring at his laptop screen when they’d been assigned as partners for their major requirement for the class, a research project involving the national park and the preservation of the remaining traditional houses in the nearby provinces. Junmyeon had initially excited, and he supposes he still is, because this is what he had wanted to do, when he had decided to become an architect. But, Minseok. It  _ had  _ to be  _ Minseok. _

“So, for the next few weeks, I’ll be stuck with  _ him,”  _ Junmyeon says, and Heechul, for all of the genius in design that he is, is  _ crazy.  _

“I thought you two were dating,” he says frankly, and Chanyeol chokes on air as he tries to fight back his laugh. Minseok winces, and Junmyeon wants to cry a little. Heechul wasn’t much older than any of them, less than a decade, and in turn, he’s much too casual with his graduate class, blurring the lines on acceptable social courtesies and manners.

“No,” is all Minseok says, still so composed but all the same tired.

“Well, you’re at an advantage this way,” Kyungsoo starts, blinking and his face expressionless, but Junmyeon knows better. He knows he’s laughing inside at their misfortune. “Minseok’s specialty is cultural heritage. And Junmyeon, no one’s better at structurals. A formidable team.”

“I’m going to bite his head off,” Junmyeon just mutters, and Minseok nods, frowning a little, because it’s true. 

“Should have gone for the online course instead,” Minseok says mostly to himself, and it makes Heechul laugh, too amused, too smug at their predicament.

“Ah, like you don’t work with people you don’t agree with in your day jobs,” Heechul pats his folder on the top of either of their heads lightly, playfully, and Minseok glares at him from beneath his lashes, his cat eyes threatening, gorgeous. Junmyeon wants to swallow his own tongue. “Ah, but then, you most probably don’t sleep with any of your co-workers?”

Junmyeon slaps the table, stares at Chanyeol and Luhan, whose faces are red with the effort of trying not to burst out in laughter. “Why did you even  _ invite him  _ last time? We’re  _ never  _ going to hear the end of this.”

“He paid for all the drinks, it’s all good,” Yifan says, shrugging coolly, and Kyungsoo nods alongside him.

“He has video evidence of you throwing up on your car,” Minseok says, almost bored, and Yifan’s eyes widen.

“You said that it was  _ Chanyeol _ who did that,” he says, and Heechul just cocks an eyebrow, smirking as he dismisses them for the night. “Sir,  _ Sir-” _

“I know the place,” Minseok says, sighing amidst the noise of the others discussing plans for dinner, research, and Junmyeon’s head aches. “We can go visit the site, when we’re both free?”

Junmyeon doesn’t answer, staying silent as he gathers his sheets from their previous submission, stuffing them haphazardly in his file. He sees Minseok wince from the corner of his eye. 

“Okay, I know this isn’t the best situation, I know you would rather work with literally  _ anyone else, _ and I would too. But we both know we’d make a good team,” Minseok says, and he’s standing, gesturing silently to Junmyeon’s piles up documents, and just shrugs. Minseok leans over, trying to put some sort of order to it somehow. “I’m not going to try to sabotage you, or anything. I’m not like that.”

“Only because you’d be getting the same grade for it, too,” Junmyeon mutters, and Minseok sighs. 

“Listen, it’s late, and we should probably just sleep on this,” he says, handing over the file, and Junmyeon skims through it quickly, trying not to react at the papers now being in order, carefully aligned.

“Minnie, Myeonie,” Chanyeol is bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning at them while the others gather towards the exit. “We’re having dinner, we’re thinking barbeque. Do you want to come with?”

“Yifan’s paying,” Kyungsoo says dryly, and Yifan glares at him to little effect. 

“I was hoping to get a bit of sleep tonight, I have work early tomorrow,” Minseok says, scratching his head a little. 

“Ah, but you can’t  _ not  _ eat,” Luhan says, and Junmyeon scowls at the soft smile he gives Minseok. He wants to slap himself a little, because literally  _ why  _ does he feel that way? “And Yifan really will pay.”

“No I’m not, when the fuck did I say I was?” 

“I have work tomorrow, too,” Junmyeon says, dread already in his chest when he thinks about all the revisions he’s being made to do for the station plans. He has quite a lot of to finish. “I don’t know if it’s a good time.”

“Ah, just to eat,” Chanyeol says, his eyes large and round and the glasses making him giving him the effect of a bright-eyed overgrown puppy. 

He glances to his side, and knows by the way Minseok’s eyebrows furrow, that he’s about to give in to his whims. It doesn’t bode well for Junmyeon, because he’s even weaker when it comes to the younger ones. 

That’s how he finds himself sitting between Yifan and Kyungsoo, splitting up the lettuce for everyone to share, Minseok sat across him turning the pork and beef strips over, listening patiently to Chanyeol chatting excitedly about the superhero-themed playhouse he’s designing for his nephew, Luhan on his other side, helping with the garlic. 

He glares at them from across the table, and Minseok ignores him easily enough, unbothered, asking Chanyeol about his nephew and his dog, and quietly replying to Luhan’s queries of his plans for the rest of the night. 

“You look like you want to eat him,” Yifan says frankly, and Junmyeon jumps a little in his seat. 

“I don’t,” he says, scowling. He cuts up the meat that’s cooked, and distributes it among all of them. His chopsticks clang a little harder than necessary on Minseok’s plate, but he doesn’t react, thanking him instead before turning his attention back to Luhan. 

“I don’t understand why you’re still mad,” Kyungsoo says, passing over the kimchi. “You both work hard, and your work shows for it. It doesn’t need to be a competition. And you’re obviously attracted to one another. You don’t have to be like this.”

“I’ll stop being an asshole when he does,” he says, but Yifan just snorts, eating the onions like noodles while waiting for the rest of the meat to cook.

“This is sad, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo sighs at him, and Junmyeon scowls at everything.

It’s typical, then, that he and Minseok would eventually start snipping at each other a few hours later, after a few bottles of soju makes its rounds around the table. Not enough to get anyone drunk, but certainly enough to let tongues loosen and filters dissolve. The others are visibly exhausted as they go back and forth, knowing how it’s going to end. 

“I’m not trying to argue with you, Myeon-”

“Then what exactly are you doing now?”

“Did I not try to be civil earlier on?” Minseok says, eyes narrowing, “I am  _ trying  _ to put aside any differences we have for this project, and I know that you like this kind of topic, so I’m doing my best.”

Junmyeon takes a deep breath, glaring still, ignoring that Minseok can somehow read him too well, had seen how much interest he shows in restoration. He’s annoyed, and this isn’t doing much to help.

“Can you skip to the part where you go to one of your places and fuck your frustrations out?” Yifan muses, bored, standing with Chanyeol to go pay for the night’s expenses despite his earlier protests. 

“It was just getting interesting,” Luhan says, and Kyungsoo pinches his arm, eyes scarily focused on him to shut up.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m not going to sleep with him,” he mutters. “I really will bite his head off.”

He refuses to remember their faces full of doubt, eyebrows raised and knowing smirks on their lips, when he has Minseok under him on his mattress later that night, teeth pulling at his bottom lip and short nails scraping along his back as he fucks him.

“Don’t,” Minseok’s tone is biting, breathy, between Junmyeon’s thrusts into his body, tight and defined, “don’t tell me. That this is the best you have.”

“I’ve barely started,” he grits out, grabbing onto a bar of his headboard as he pushes his hips forward, hard and quick, and they both moan into each other’s mouths, lips skimming and Junmyeon shuts his eyes, his cock enveloped in the heavenly, perfect warmth of Minseok’s tight ass. 

Minseok reaches up, fingers tangling into his hair, pulling and making Junmyeon grunt, hips stuttering. His eyes are deadly, sharp and piercing, and Junmyeon breathes him in, staring back as he pounds into him, giving him the power he’s asking for. Minseok bites his lips, small gasps escaping out of his mouth anyway at the way he’s being pistoned into, and it’s more satisfying than Junmyeon would care to admit. 

Minseok clenches around his length, and he groans, pumping into him and his body is perfect, his ass taking him without trouble, taking everything he’s being given, and Junmyeon thinks how he should have done this sooner, would have known how  _ good  _ it feels to be inside him, to have him inside. To have him everywhere. 

If only he didn’t have that mouth on him. 

They fuck for a long while. Several moments that lead to more, each second better than the last, and Junmyeon can’t quite remember the last one he’d felt a connection like this to someone. Like fire rolling over him, warmth and energy and lightning singing through his skin. 

He looks down, watches as his cock pulls out, fucks into Minseok’s ass, watches himself stretch him open and split him, making his breath catch in his throat. His face is pulled down, and Minseok is kissing him, licking into his mouth and his sounds pour into him, and they’re both breathless with it.

“Fuck,” Minseok grits out, and he’s reaching a hand down, taking his aching cock in a tight grip, and Junmyeon thrusts into him harder, close.  _ “Fuck, fuck.  _ Myeon-”

The way his name is said makes him see stars. Junmyeon moans, pats at Minseok’s hand around his dick away so he can get him off instead, but it just makes Minseok tighten his hold even more. He rolls his eyes, but instead just wraps his fingers around what Minseok’s hand can’t, and moving in tandem, they jerk Minseok off, going in time with Junmyeon’s thrusts into his body.

“Come on,” Junmyeon growls, urging him on, fucking in harder and twisting his hand tighter. 

“Shut up,” Minseok grunts, and Junmyeon scowls at him, shuts him up with a rough kiss, pulling at his lips with his teeth.

“Min, Minseok,” he breathes against his mouth, and that’s when he comes, gasping and spilling over their hands, and the tightness of his clenching walls around his cock is enough for Junmyeon. He comes, filling the condom and his breath leaves him in sharp, rapid notes as he wrings out his climax, pumping into Minseok with a final few short thrusts. 

It’s quiet for a few minutes, just their heavy breathing in the silence of the night, and it’s late. The dread of having to go and catch up on the work he’s been neglecting in favor of dinner and the unplanned sex now makes his blood go a little cold in his veins, but then the warmth of Minseok below him overwhelms, feeling too good, and it’s too much. 

Minseok must notice his stiffness, as he asks quietly, “Are you alright?”

Junmyeon blinks, and he shakes himself internally, saying gruffly, “Yes.” He pulls out of Minseok, both of them wincing, and he disposes of the condom, wipes down Minseok’s front with his discarded shirt. 

Minseok looks at him, surprised, and Junmyeon fights to keep his own face blank as he cleans him up. It had been an unconscious thing, didn’t truly think it through, he’d just done it. It’s an achingly tender minute, and he clears his throat when he’s done, throwing his clothes in the hamper, putting on a fresh shirt and shorts, trying not to think too much.

“I need to catch up on work now,” he says, doesn’t watch as Minseok sits up, skin shining with sweat.

“I see,” he answers, pausing. “Do you, would you like some help?”

He looks at him, shocked. Minseok’s face is serious, and the offer is unexpected, but he knows it’s sincere. 

He’s touched, but he fights not to show it. “No, I can do it.” 

“It’s just,” Minseok starts, then he stops himself. Junmyeon can’t quite help how drawn he is to them, always had been. 

“Finish your thought,” he says shortly, and Minseok blinks at his cold tone.

“You look like you’ve been really tired, lately,” he says quietly, and Junmyeon takes a deep breath. “I just. I’d like to help.”

“I don’t need your help, or anyone else’s,” he says sharply, defending himself even though he knows Minseok means well. He hadn’t even known that his general disdain for his life had been visible on his appearance, on his face, how he’d been holding himself.

“I’m not, I didn’t say you needed it,” Minseok says, and his own voice isn’t fighting back. Just is. He stands, dressing himself, and Junmyeon watches him with his throat feeling clogged. “But it’s not bad, asking for it.”

Junmyeon bristles. “You know your way out, Min.”

He pauses, and he nods eventually, putting on his jacket and taking his phone, wallet from the bedside table. 

He doesn’t say anything as he takes his leave, but just as he passes by Junmyeon to go to the door, he looks at him. His expression is genuine as he says, “Don’t overwork yourself. Get a few hours of rest, at least.”

Junmyeon can’t look at him, everything feeling very complicated, suddenly. For what’s supposed to be an easy arrangement of hating each other and sleeping together to release the pent up energy, pent up emotions.

“I’ll get going,” Minseok tells him, and he nods, resists reacting when a kiss is quickly pressed to his cheek. It’s uncharacteristically soft for them, and Minseok leaves before anything else can be said. It’s the smallest relief, but when the door closes behind him, Junmyeon feels painfully lonely.

It’s only hours later, after not having slept the night revising his work and taking the quickest shower and throwing on his work suit, that he notices that Minseok had left something behind.

A leather cardholder, and Junmyeon looks through, sees his driver’s license and some credit cards, amongst other things, and he sighs, frustrated with his carelessness. He knows Minseok isn’t the type to forget things, be so haphazard with his things, and he suppresses the thought that the lapse might have had something to do with how they had left things last night.

He thinks, and sends a text as he makes his way out of the apartment.

_ ‘You left your license here.’ _

It’s after the meeting he has with his boss, wherein he’d been told that the plans he’d made were an improvement, but still  _ “lacked creative vision, it’s too plain, we can’t show the client this,”  _ that he checks his phone, and Minseok had replied with a short text.

_ “Ah. I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me. Please keep it for me for now, I’ll get it back when I see you next for class.” _

He frowns as he types,  _ ‘That won’t be until next week. Won’t you need it?’ _

_ “I’ll be fine. I’ll just be careful to avoid any driving accidents.” _

Junmyeon rolls his eyes, pockets his phone and tries not to think about it too much as he sets to work on even more revisions on the design, thankless work that made him feel like he was being choked.

.

It takes a day before his resolve breaks. He convinces himself that it had been because he couldn’t bear his workload, and wanted a break from thinking about clean lines and computations for the structural soundness of the structure and possible building materials. He ignores the thought of being worried, seeing if Minseok would be okay without his things, most of all, wanting to see him. 

He tells himself he’s being responsible, just doing what’s right and giving him back what’s his. The urge to see him wasn’t real.

He leaves work early, makes the drive to Minseok’s office, just to discover he’s not there, and to be directed to his site half an hour away. Now, Junmyeon knows, and it’s probably more logical, to leave Minseok’s things here for him to come back to. It’s a sound decision, one that would make a lot of sense, enough to show his thoughtfulness and it’s kind but not  _ too  _ kind.

So, when Junmyeon finds himself driving towards the edge of the city, not even thinking it through, he blames it on the whim of wanting to explore. 

He parks a ways off, and as he walks towards where hardhat clad men are lifting long logs of wood and steel beams and other materials, he feels a little relieved that he’d decided to go more casual today and forgone his usual work suit. The faux leather bomber still makes him stand out, though.

He approaches the edge of the site, just outside the in-progress gates of the natural finish wood logs, and he peers through the slits. A temple, of some sort. His heart aches a little.

“Hello,” he jumps, blinks when he sees someone peering back at him, smile kindly spread on his angular face, dimples deep and eyes gentle beneath the hard hat he’s adjusting on his head to look at him better. “May I help you? The temple is closed off for the time being. It will be open again in a few weeks.”

“Oh, no, that is,” he swallows, blinking. “I was, is Kim Minseok here? I just wanted to give something to him.”

The man tilts his head, curious expression on his face. “May I ask who’s asking for him?”

“Um. Junmyeon. Kim Junmyeon,” he replies, feeling very self-conscious suddenly at the widening of his eyes, a look of realization settling on his face.

The other man nods, then turns, shouting, “Yah, Minnie! Min! You have a visitor!”

“Um, wait,” Junmyeon starts waving his hands, because he’s not a visitor, can’t have anyone thinking otherwise. It gets worse when he hears a familiar voice yelling over the din,  _ “Who is it?”  _ and this man is shouting back, “Your boyfriend!”

“No, no, I’m not,” he stammers, shaking his head, but the man just beams at him. “We’re not, no. No, he’s not-“

“Right,” he cocks an eyebrow, and Minseok shouts back after a pause,  _ “Who, Xing?” _

“He says his name is Junmyeon!” he yells, and a few moments later, Minseok is approaching them, his clothes rugged and stained with paint and his jeans straining against his thighs as he jogs towards them. Junmyeon swallows, blinking away whatever it is he’s feeling.

“Oh, it really is you,” Minseok says breathily, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand beneath his hat.

Junmyeon stands a bit straighter, clearing his throat, hyper aware of Minseok’s co-worker standing a foot away, his gaze switching between the two of them. “I just wanted to return it to you. It’s a burden, keeping it for so long, and you might need it,” he says, struggling to keep his tone casual, and he hands over his cardholder, and Minseok stares at it for a moment, then back up at him.

“I told you, I could have just gotten it in class.”

“What if you get into a car accident? Your victim will need your details to sue,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok rolls his eyes, his friend coughing loudly, turning his face away, but his shaking shoulders give him away.

“I’m an excellent driver, you know this,” his eyes narrow, and Junmyeon is suddenly reminded of the other night, when they’d been on the road and Minseok had kept commendable composure as Junmyeon had gone down on him.

He knows his face is red, and Minseok’s smirk makes him want to either kick him, or kiss it right out of his face. The urge for the latter is frighteningly strong.

“In any case,” he says, coughing a little, “I thought it best to give this back to you.”

Minseok looks at him, quiet for a moment. Then he says, “This was very kind of you, Myeon. Thank you.”

He nods, and they stand there awkwardly for a minute, not knowing what to say to each other.

Minseok’s friend clears his throat finally, saying as he holds out his hand in greeting, “I’m Yixing. Minnie and are work together.”

“Yes, nice to meet you,” he says, breaking Minseok’s gaze to shake his hand.

“Heard a lot about you,” Yixing says, and Junmyeon’s face colors.

“A lot of rants and complaints, I suppose.”

“No,” Yixing tilts his head, confused, and he looks at Minseok. “If anything, he-“

“We need to be going back to work,” Minseok says loudly, and the glare he gives Yixing is deathly. “Please excuse us.”

“Ah, but are you not an architect too, Junmyeon?” Yixing says, grinning. “Would you like to come in, have a look around? It’s a lovely place, just been needing a bit of rejuvenation.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” he says, not knowing what to feel at all. “I don’t think being in there without authorization will be good for either of you, might get you in trouble-“

“Trouble with who?” Yixing says, “Minnie’s the head architect on the project, so unless he says no,” he trails off, looking to Minseok, whose face had remained steadfastly blank.

“It’s alright,” he says, trying to save face, but Minseok is saying then, “You have an extra hard hat laying around, then, Xing?”

“Oh, I think there are a few out back in the gardens, hold on,” he says, and he leaves them.

Junmyeon stares at Minseok, conflicting emotions making his chest feel tight. “It’s alright.”

“You’re here, you might as well,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon can’t read his face. “I can give you a bit of a tour. Unless you don’t want.”

He does want, and he takes one glance at the building behind them, and Minseok just makes a soft noise. 

“I know you don’t completely like me, but you don’t have to be so proud with me,” Minseok says. “You’re competitive. I understand. But, if you want something, it’s not like I’ll deny you.”

Junmyeon chooses not to answer, and it’s just as well. Yixing is returning with a hat and a smile, but it’s Minseok who help him put it on, adjusting it on his head, and Junmyeon can’t break their gaze. 

They go around the site, areas in varying states of progress, and Junmyeon sees how great care had been taken into maintaining as much of the original structure as possible, and Junmyeon sees where Minseok had gotten all the paint stains on his clothes from, workers painting over faded murals and peeling walls in colorful shades.

“Not usually in an architect’s job description, to paint walls,” he muses, and Minseok shrugs.

“I like being hands on,” he replies simply, and Junmyeon thinks, sees how it is in Minseok’s nature, really.

Yixing tours them around the gardens, and Junmyeon learns that he’s a landscape architect in Minseok’s company, moved to Korea a few years ago for his degree and stayed. Junmyeon suspects it was for more than a few good reasons, but Yixing’s smile goes soft when he asks, so he doesn’t prod further.

The place, the whole of it, is beautiful. Storied and cultured in the way only old things can, with a history and this was why Junmyeon had kept on with this, despite the many sleepless nights and hours of work and little relief with the need to be perfect. To create, and to build environments in which others could make their own stories in. His current job may not be the exact avenue in which he’d wanted to work in specifically, but he doesn’t have much to complain about, really.

The place isn’t very vast, but there is a lot to see, a lot to talk about, and Junmyeon sees, admits without much reluctance, surprisingly, that Minseok is exceptional at his job. It’s profoundly evident he knows what he’s doing, and he’s good with the workers, and he’s quiet aside from explaining something or answering Junmyeon’s many questions, and he works hard, works well. Without them really realizing it, many hours have gone by, the sky pinking and work is wrapping up for the day.

“Thank you again, for bringing this,” Minseok says quietly as he takes the hat Junmyeon returns to him. “You didn’t have to come all this way. You could have left it at my office.”

“I know,” he replies. “Wanted you to owe me for something. You’ll have to pay me back somehow, now.”

Minseok rolls his eyes, but Yixing overhears, and he grins, telling him, “Why don’t you come with us tonight, then?”

“Why, what’s tonight?” Junmyeon blinks, and Minseok is staring scarily at Yixing, who just keeps beaming.

“Ah, I would have thought that you’d know, since you had Minnie’s license,” he says, and Minseok’s chilling glare isn’t enough for him to stop saying, “It’s his birthday today.”

Junmyeon blinks, blinks again. Looks at Minseok, who’s sighing and looking very tired suddenly.

“It’s your birthday?” he asks, his tone sounding much harder in his head than what comes out.

“He’s an old man,” Yixing says, pinching at Minseok’s cheeks, and it just makes him glare harder at him. “We’re making him pay for dinner and drinks tonight, you should come!”

“Oh, I don’t think he would like – maybe not tonight,” he says, smiling, and it feels strange on his face. “It’s his birthday, he should be spending it with friends.”

“You’re a friend,” Yixing says, and no, he’s really not. “Maybe, not in the conventional sense, but if you-“

“I’d like for you to come, Myeon,” Minseok cuts in, and he not so subtly steps on Yixing’s foot. “Least I can do, since you came all this way to give this back to me. I know it’s out of the way for you.”

“I might make things uncomfortable.”

“The last thing I feel when I’m with you is uncomfortable,” he answers, and it’s said nonchalantly, with a roll of his eyes, but Junmyeon hears its sincerity all the same, and it shocks him a little, that it doesn’t take much more than that for him to find himself walking into a small chicken and beer place, and a noisy pair comes barreling into Minseok’s arms and singing loudly, one of them bearing a birthday cake, Yixing coming from behind to jam a party cone hat on his head. Junmyeon watches, looks around, sees the other customers and the restaurant servers adding to the din, and it strikes him as a place they’re evidently familiar, comfortable in. As if they’d made many of their stories in here, added to the walls of this place, given it a bit of their own color.

“Who’s the handsome one?” one of them asks as he hangs off of Minseok, the corners of his mouth curled endearingly, the angles of his face sharp.

“I’m Junmyeon,” he replies, and his other friend, lips like pillows and eyes kind, stands with an authoritative grace, recognition coming across his features.

“So  _ you’re  _ Junmyeon,” he says, curiosity coloring his tone, and Minseok gives his tall friend a look.

“And so what if he is, Nini?” he says. “Myeon, Jongin, Jongdae,” he points to his respective friends, and they smile, bowing politely. Junmyeon bows in return, and they gather him into the fold easily enough, offering him a beer right off, and he and Minseok are pushed to sit on one side of the table, the three of them squeezing on the other. It’s loud throughout the meal, chicken and noodles and rice and kimchi absorbing all the alcohol that never seems to stop coming, other patrons buying them a round when they run out, the servers and managers of the place giving them drinks on the house in celebration. Junmyeon stops after his third, needing to sober up to drive, and he watches, everyone comfortable with each other, tactile and affectionate, and it doesn’t stay amiss, how Minseok keeps a hand on his thigh, not unwelcome. He’s aware of its presence, but Junmyeon isn’t bothered, lets him keep it there. Feels somewhat natural, and for tonight, he doesn’t overthink it.

He watches, how Minseok drinks and drinks, but stays steady, sober, small smile on his face as he watches everyone else slowly start losing more and more of their inhibitions.

It’s obvious enough, despite his tall stature and general towering aura, that Jongin is their baby, leaning against Jongdae and needing comforting pats on the head, a gentle presence, shy when he talks to Junmyeon, but polite all the same. Jongdae is loud, volume increasing with each glass he consumes, and he’s lively, looks after everyone.

Minseok is still quiet, watches everyone with a sort of exasperated fondness and endearment, and Junmyeon can’t help but watch him. He’s endlessly kind, watching over everyone and keeping them all in line but making sure they’re still having fun, and tonight, Junmyeon allows himself to not be irritated, just takes him in and appreciates him. It’s a lot less tiring, than hating him all the time and trying to find fault in him uselessly, and Junmyeon washes down the bit of dread he feels of having to confront these feelings with his final swig of beer, tells himself  _ not tonight. _

“Are you alright?” he’s asking Junmyeon, and his hand rubs his thigh comfortingly. Junmyeon doesn’t think, laces their fingers together, and he nods, unsure of opening his mouth, knowing something might come out that he doesn’t mean, or. Worse, something that he does mean.

They help the others get cars going to their places, and when Minseok asks him if he’d like to come back to his place for a nightcap, Junmyeon doesn’t say no.

“Thank you for being nice to them,” Minseok says when they’re nursing a bottle of beer each by the kitchen counter and his cat on his lap, tail curling around his leg, and it’s late, and Junmyeon doesn’t want to go home. “Jongin is shy, and Jongdae. It takes some time for him to warm up to people. You didn’t have to come with us, this was kind of you. Thank you.”

“I’m not mean, Min,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok just smiles quietly at him.

“Maybe it’s just to me, then,” he says casually, still smiling. Junmyeon feels a little sick. 

“I, no, Min, it’s-”

“It’s okay,” he says, waving him off, drinking deeply. “Really. I know our relationship is weird. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m thankful you came.”

Junmyeon’s hand curls around his bottle, and he watches him as he polishes off his drink silently, and it feels. Different. 

“I didn’t get you a gift,” he muses out loud, and Minseok is shaking his head, amused chuckle leaving his lips as he scratches behind his cat’s ears, soft purrs adding to the quiet and calm. 

“We’re not quite like that, you know this,” he just replies, and he gives him a quiet smile. “You going all the way out there just to give me my things is more than enough.”

It doesn’t do much to dissuade Junmyeon but Minseok finishes his beer, licking his lips when he’s done. He can’t help but watch as he does so. 

“I need to wash off the day,” Minseok says, standing, letting his cat down to the ground as he goes. “You can stay if you want. Or go. It’s fine, but I’ll take a shower now. Thank you for coming again, Myeon.”

He leaves before he can say anything, and Junmyeon is left alone, thinking, not liking how he feels too much and how Minseok isn’t even really doing anything, but it’s shifting everything all the same. He hates,  _ hates  _ that he has such a strong effect on him, effortlessly done, and Junmyeon’s fingers twitch around his half-empty bottle. Thinks, just for a few moments, and he stands, and his hands are steady as he peels off his jacket, unbuttons his shirt, his pants. When he opens the door to Minseok’s bathroom, he’s stepping out of his underwear, and knocks resolutely on the glass door of the shower. Minseok turns his head, cocking an eyebrow as he shakes off the water, turns the stream off.

“What?” he says, and he’s wet all over and Junmyeon is only so strong to resist.

“I need to wash off too,” he answers, and Minseok tilts his head, confused. “Move over.”

Minseok makes a derisive noise, something akin to a scoff and a snort, but Junmyeon slides the door open, steps in without waiting for a reply, turning the water back on and he closes the door behind them, trapping them in. 

He turns, facing Minseok, and keeps his gaze steady on him. Waits for him to get out, to leave, to say anything that shows he doesn’t want him there. 

Minseok doesn’t give him any. Waits for him, and Junmyeon kisses him, tentative, testing, and Minseok opens his mouth easily enough, letting him lick into his mouth. Junmyeon reaches up, holds his face and pulls at his hair, and Minseok pulls their bodies close together, until their flush, and he licks down Junmyeon’s neck, biting and touching and Junmyeon’s chest feels a great deal lighter already. 

He gets a hand around their cocks, moves until Minseok’s back is on the tiles of the wall, and he bites at his lip and he tugs at their lengths together, hissing at their cocks being rubbed together until they’re both hard. 

“You’re wasting too much water,” Minseok grits out, reaching over to shut the water off, and Junmyeon takes the moment to get on his knees, and without any preamble, gets his lips around the head of his dick. Minseok gasps, and Junmyeon goes down, taking more and more of him, his length heavy on his tongue, and he doesn’t wait. Starts bobbing his head and letting Minseok’s cock fill his mouth, taking him as far as he can go, wrapping his hand around what he can’t reach. 

He pinches Minseok’s thigh, and he takes the hint easily. Starts thrusting and fucking into his mouth, making him take it and Junmyeon closes his eyes, listens to the breathy, desperate noises leaving his mouth, and he squeezes the base of his own length, not wanting to come this way. 

He pulls back, let’s Minseok’s cock slap against his tongue, and he stands up, kissing him roughly. Minseok responds well, licking into his mouth and tasting himself on his tongue, and Junmyeon moans against him as Minseok pulls him close and takes his ass cheeks in his palms, rolling them around. 

“Fuck me,” Junmyeon mutters, biting his shoulder and rutting against him. “I need it, fuck me,  _ fuck me Min.” _

“Shit,  _ fuck, Myeon,”  _ Minseok mutters against his mouth, hissing, “couldn’t have let me at least finish my shower-“

“Tough luck,” he answers, pulling at his lip with his teeth, licking across his bite. “Where’s your stuff?”

Minseok huffs against his lips, points in the direction of his sink, and Junmyeon steps out of the shower to look through the drawers, the medicine cabinet, grabs a small tube of lube and tries to rip a condom packet with his wet fingers, giving up and ripping it with his teeth instead.

“Better clean that up later,” Minseok says as he pads back into the stall, and he scowls, opening the lube and spreading it over his fingers, reaching behind himself and pushing into himself, making quick work of opening himself up. Minseok watches him, his gaze heated, and he takes the condom and rolls it down his cock, tugging at himself and keeping his eyes on him. 

Junmyeon’s breath leaves him in gasps as he fucks himself roughly with his fingers, getting himself ready, and his own cock slaps around, hard and waiting and he glares at Minseok, the way his cock just gets harder and harder in his grasp, and he needs him inside him, filling him and fucking him well. 

“Against the wall,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon lets himself be guided against the tiles. Minseok lifts one of his legs, spreading him open and exposed, wraps it around his waist, and he stares at where Junmyeon is stretched out and waiting for him. It makes a heat dance across his skin, and Junmyeon feels himself twitch, clench around nothing as he waits for him to breach him. 

Just as he’s about to complain, Minseok starts guiding the tip in, tracing around his hole for an agonizing minute, and then properly pushing into him, the stretch familiar and welcome and Junmyeon throws his head back as he moans with each inch Minseok sinks into. 

He fills his ass perfectly, the way he’d known he would and better still, and without pulling out, Minseok grinds in, rolling his hips and Junmyeon shakes, desperate whines leaving his lips as immediately, his nub is brushed against. 

“Fuck, oh god,  _ fuck,”  _ Junmyeon breathes, feeling like he’s on fire as Minseok fucks him, their wet, slick skin sliding against each other and Minseok licks across his lips, his eyes narrowed and adding fire to his chest. “Harder, come on. Use me.”

Minseok pauses, his eyes widening a little in shock, then he says, “I don’t. We’re. I don’t, we’ve never been like that-“

“Don’t overthink it,” Junmyeon says, kissing him hard. “Just fuck me. Give me everything. Do what you want.”

Minseok waits, watching him, and Junmyeon tries not to melt under his eyes. Minseok takes his hands, guides them to his shoulders, around his neck, and Junmyeon’s heart races, fear and uncertainty in his chest, because this, this is  _ soft,  _ intimate and Minseok is leaning his forehead against his, kissing him and being gentle. Junmyeon is about to have a breakdown, because this isn’t them. 

“You said ‘do what I want,’” Minseok says, and Junmyeon can hear his heart thudding against his ears. 

“This wasn’t what I meant,” he says, and Minseok gives him a soft smirk. 

“Too bad,” he replies, kissing him, and his next thrust in makes him gasp, cling on tighter, and Minseok is steady with his pace, moving and moving and fucking him carefully and hard, filling him up with perfect thrusts. He fucks him with purpose, each move sure and his cock is perfect inside him, stretching him open and taking care of him too well. 

Junmyeon feels him everywhere, and he can’t find it in himself to put up his front anymore. He  _ melts,  _ burying his face in Minseok’s neck and breathing him in as he’s fucked, and his chest is painful and everything else feels perfect, every push of Minseok’s hips hard and rough but careful, taking his time to feel him. 

“Min,” he breathes, and Minseok spreads his legs further, and the next push in is  _ heavenly,  _ and Junmyeon tries to roll his hips in time with his thrusts, and they move together, mouths attached and hearing air. “Min, please-“

He’s never begged so outrightly before. 

Minseok hums against his mouth, takes his hands in his and pins them to the wall, and he fucks him, hard and harder and his cock splits him open. Junmyeon takes it, takes everything, sighing and moaning into the humid air of the shower, and the slap of their skin meeting as they fuck is loud and echoing, bouncing off of the tiles. 

Minseok holds his hips, grip strong, and with his free hand, wraps it around his leaking cock, and twists and pulls as he shoves into him, pushing his cock into Junmyeon’s ass. 

He licks a stripe down Junmyeon’s neck, coming in closer in a way that Junmyeon thought wouldn’t be possible, until there is no part of him that Minseok is not touching in some way, and his next push in feels deeper, the twist of his wrist just this much tighter, and it’s enough. 

Junmyeon just about shouts as he comes hard, spilling over Minseok’s fingers, his ass clenching around the cock inside him, and he barely catches the gasp leaving Minseok’s lips, the way his hips pump into him minutely, and it’s in the pause after he realizes that him coming had made Minseok come too. 

It’s just their breathing echoing in the room for several moments, loud and tired and telling of what they’d done, and Junmyeon feels with how hard his heart is beating in his chest, the thudding might’ve been adding to the din. 

“Happy birthday,” he says eventually, softer than he’d intended, but he doesn’t take it back. 

Minseok looks at him, and he’s completely beautiful, and Junmyeon’s insides don’t know quite what to do with the way his gaze sets on him. “Thank you, Junmyeon. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Wanted to,” he admits, cheeks on fire, and Minseok is kind enough to not bring it up. He pulls out of him slowly, both of them wincing, and turns the water back on, reaches over at the shampoo. 

Junmyeon blinks as Minseok’s hands reach up into his hair, beginning to wash him, fingers moving gently but intently across his scalp as he rubs the shampoo in, and Junmyeon melts under him, under his touch, and he tries,  _ tries  _ to fight it.

“It’s, you don’t need to-”

“We both smell like fried chicken and dirt, and you’re here already. Might as well,” Minseok says, rubbing his palms together to spread the bodywash more evenly, and Junmyeon just. Decides to stop fighting it, closing his eyes as Minseok washes him, moving his own hands against Minseok’s slick skin and washing him off as well. Minseok keeps kissing him as well, his lips so soft against his, and his brain is going haywire, and he doesn’t hate any of it, can’t find it in himself to deny how everything makes him feel so taken care of.

When they’re sharing a towel, drying off with Minseok getting at his hair and patting at his cheeks and it’s feeling too intimate, too domestic, Junmyeon clears his throat, needing to put the boundary somewhere, late as it is that he’s doing it.

“Do you have clothes I can borrow?” he asks, looking at the ground, watching the water drop from his hair to the tiles. “I’ll give them back, just don’t think I can drive in my clothes.”

“You can sleep here, it’s late,” Minseok’s voice is casual, towelling off the excess water off his hair.

“I don’t think I should do that,” Junmyeon says, chest tight with how scared he is of something coming out of his mouth that he means. Everything feels too much.

Minseok’s hands pause on his head, and Junmyeon waits. Almost afraid of what he’d say.

“Okay, I’ll get you something,” Minseok says, and he lets go of the towel, lets go of him. Junmyeon misses him immediately. He leaves the bathroom, comes back a few minutes later, wearing a loose pair of sleep pants and carrying a neat pile of clothes along with him. 

“These should be okay. They’re my comfiest,” he says, and. Junmyeon hears so much kindness, sees it too on his face, and his chest feels battered, hurt, and he doesn’t know why.

He takes the clothes with a quiet nod, but Minseok turns to leave. His brain stutters, and he doesn’t think. Reaches out and takes Minseok’s hand and he freezes, unsure of why he’d done that. 

Minseok seems similarly confused, but he doesn’t let go of his hand. Turns it instead, so their palms are touching, and Junmyeon breathes harshly, feeling very foolish with how hard his heart is pounding in his chest with such a simple gesture.

“Yes? What is it?”

Junmyeon looks up. Minseok’s eyes are patient, and the smile on his face small, but true.

“I don’t hate you, Min,” he says, admits, because it’s been eating him alive. “I may be competitive, and our thing, it’s weird. It’s really, really fucking weird. But I don’t want you going to sleep thinking that I hate you or I’m being mean to you on purpose.”

Minseok blinks, and Junmyeon feels the grip on his hand tighten. “I don’t hate you either, Junmyeon,” he says. He pauses, thinking, and he adds, “Thank you. Now you can’t say you didn’t give me anything for my birthday. This is the nicest gift.”

Junmyeon swallows, and he didn’t think he’d feel such a rush of relief, a weightlessness that shocks him and he fights not to let it show on his face. 

It’s quiet, comfortable, for a few moments, just looking and considering each other with hands held, and he’d never thought he’d describe any moment such, especially with Minseok, but. 

“I’ll take the couch,” Minseok says eventually, and it takes a minute for it to sink in.

“No, you’re not sleeping on the couch on your birthday, Minseok.”

“Hmm,” he hums, thinking. Then he comes forward, kisses Junmyeon again, and this is familiar. The intimacy and softness and honesty of earlier had ben alien, pleasant but strange, and Junmyeon has had his fill for the day. The feeling of Minseok’s mouth against his, tongue against his own and body warm pressed right up against his is familiar, new but nonetheless exciting, making his blood rush, this he can deal with. “Then I’ll make you come on the bed.”

“I think you’re using the wrong prepositions, there,” he grits out, reaching around and squeezing his ass, annoyingly covered, and grinds his own cock against the front of his sleepwear.

“I said what I said,” Minseok says, smile curling up and eyes dangerous, and these are familiar; these, Junmyeon can deal with.

. 

Junmyeon finds himself sitting in the passenger seat of Minseok’s car a week later, the hour very early and roads otherwise empty on the way to their site. 

They’ve come to an understanding of what to describe what they are, since Minseok’s birthday. Complicated, complicated enough that they still argue, had almost started yelling at each other when they were in class just a few days ago, Luhan and Kyungsoo having to sit on their laps just so they would calm down, but Minseok had come over for dinner that night and a movie they’d barely watched, instead rolling around in the cushions of his sofa. Complicated enough that they’d argued over who to listen to during the drive, settling with taking turns at the sound system, currently with Minseok’s phone plugged in and  _ Mirotic  _ playing, his hand on Junmyeon’s thigh as he drives. 

They don’t necessarily need to go together to the site. It would have been simple enough for Junmyeon to have taken his own car and follow him there, but. He didn’t need much convincing to go with Minseok instead on the front that it’s easier on gas. Complicated enough. 

They arrive after a few hours drive, and Minseok walks a bit ahead of him as they survey the area, obviously familiar with the place, but he doesn’t speak much aside from the general information and replying when he’s asked something, instead letting Junmyeon take it in for himself. 

It’s quiet, the calm of a small province far away from the hectic pace of the city, and its streets and roofs and everything Junmyeon sees is steeped in stories and a past that makes it much more colorful that the clean but faded wood and time-worn bricks suggest. 

He looks about, taking pictures for the project, for himself, Minseok following and standing a ways off, giving him his space and looking around himself. Junmyeon can’t quite refrain from glancing at him every now and then, taking him in, wondering what he’s experienced here, what he might have to say, what he thinks. He’d like to blame it on the early hour, the softness of the sky and the quiet of the morning, for his sentimentality and lack of bite, but he knows it won’t cut it anymore. 

“You seem awfully familiar with this place, must have come here a lot,” he asks, deciding that he might as well complicate their thing a little more, coming up to him and holding his hand.

Minseok looks shocked, staring down at their hands, but he doesn’t let go. Tightens his grip after a beat, and when he looks back up at Junmyeon, his gaze is unsure, quiet, and something Junmyeon recognizes, an expression he knows he wears a lot of the time when he stares at Minseok, but he doesn’t know the name of. 

“Had a prospective project here, a year ago,” Minseok answers, guides them along as they walk along the road. “Was supposed to preserve one of the houses, but it fell through. Client didn’t have enough funds. We had offered to do it on behalf of the government, preserve it as a museum or something similar, but they had quite a bit of pride. Said they didn’t want to be a charity case.”

“Where is it now?” Junmyeon asks, and Minseok smiles, tilts his head to the left, and Junmyeon looks. 

It’s massive, easily one of the larger houses, an estate by the looks of it, and it’s a gorgeous place, but evidently abandoned and a steady weathering and dismantling by time, neglect, and the environment is obvious.

Junmyeon is immediately enamoured, already envisioning it in a better time, in better condition, and Minseok smiles at him warmly, knowing his excitement. 

“Affluent family, swindled their riches, their descendants suffering the consequences generations later. A familiar history, hmm?” Minseok explains, and Junmyeon takes several pictures on his personal phone, taking everything in, an urge and deep want to revive, renew the structure set in his bones. 

“There’s. It’s so much,” he says, sounding a little wistful, and Minseok hums, understanding.

They around more. He asks more, Minseok answers more, having something to say for almost every house they pass through, some better maintained than others, some larger than most, all of them otherwise lacking life aside from elderly housekeepers, gardners, paid to keep the house occupied and clean, but still empty. 

It takes a while, maybe an hour’s worth of walking and looking around, but eventually, conversation veers away from the place and the bit of its history Minseok knows about, and into territory Junmyeon had never thought he’d get into with him.

“You’ve always wanted to do this kind of work, then?” he asks, and Minseok looks at him, considering.

“I wanted to be a teacher, actually,” Minseok tells him. “I think I actually might, if I can get my PhD. Will probably end up becoming an architectural undergraduate professor while doing work with the historical commission, if things go well.”

“A teacher?”

“I love kids,” he says, smiling quietly. “Wanted to be a preschool teacher. Ended up shifting my attention to architecture because my ex was so into it, and I ended up staying in the course while she shifted out. I fell in love with it, and the history and theory classes changed my world. I knew I had to work in this particular part of the industry, even though it’s harder and less secure.”

Junmyeon watches him speak, sees his sincerity and despite their arguments, he’s always had a high level of respect for him. If he’d had that kind of spirit and courage to do what he really wanted.

“And you?” Minseok turns to ask him, and Junmyeon knows that Minseok is aware of his preferences, of what he truly wants to pursue. But there is no judgement, no condescension, no assumptions. Junmyeon is quietly thankful for it.

“My parents,” he answers, and Minseok nods. “Of course, I’m very thankful for all the help they’d given me, the opportunities that I have are mostly because of them.”

“The Kim Group of architects, yes,” Minseok says, and Junmyeon sighs. “To have that much influence around you.”

He pauses at the end, and Junmyeon knows he’s leaving it in the open for whatever. To be left empty, to be filled, confirmed or denied, or. 

“I want your job,” he admits, finally. “I’m grateful to be where I am and see my projects carried out and adding to the Seoul skyline. But. It is not what I want to do. I want the old and the stories and history and. Just not what I have now.”

Minseok nods at him, not looking surprised, but here’s nothing arrogant about it. Just an acknowledgement, an understanding. 

He breathes, and. He feels a good deal lighter than he had, just a few moments ago. For quite a long time, if he were frank. 

“Thank you,” he says, his sigh feeling a lot like one of relief. 

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he replies, and Junmyeon is still thankful regardless. Enough to come forward and kiss him, holding his waist.

“You can do it, you know,” Minseok tells him in a soft tone against his mouth, and Junmyeon realizes that his voice. It doesn’t change all that much when he speaks to Junmyeon, whether they’re arguing over structurals and plumbing or conversing over what to eat or when they’re in bed or now, in a tender moment that has been occurring more and more often. “You really can go after what you want. You’ve proven yourself, you’re more than capable.”

It’s sincere, and it’s dangerous. 

Junmyeon doesn’t know what to say, so he replies, “Don’t say that, we might be competing for the same projects, if I do.  _ And,  _ I  _ will  _ be getting them.”

Minseok just smirks, but it turns into a real, gentle smile just a moment later, and Junmyeon doesn’t know how to respond to Minseok being so soft, having expected a sigh and a retort, or a cheeky joke, or anything other than what he’s doing now.

_ ‘Why are you acting like this?’  _ Junmyeon wants to ask. Or,  _ ‘Why do I feel this way?’ _

“Look forward to seeing you try,” Minseok tells him, and Junmyeon feels like he’s crashing, falling. 

It’s complicated. Very complicated.

.

Minseok wasn’t supposed to be privy to this conversation, but Junmyeon supposes there isn’t much for it now.

“Sorry, sir, if you could just repeat that,” he says, trying to sound as composed as he can as he makes notes on his laptop and planner and notebook all at the same time.

_ “The plumbing layout has to be redone all over again, and the mechanicals have to be thought over, budget was cut - but you should have known this.” _

“Yes, I’m sorry,” he says, scribbling and typing as he speaks to his phone, and he doesn’t look at Minseok, who’d been sitting with him in his office at home, unopened boxes of takeout black bean noodles and dumplings and bubble tea between them. “I’ll work on them right away.”

_ “Junmyeon, the revisions were supposed to be out last week, this is highly unprofessional of you-” _

“Yes, I’m sorry dad, it won’t happen again,” he says, bowing though he can’t be seen, “it was a bad lapse of judgement on my part, I’ll get to fixing it right away.”

_ “I’ll see you at work,”  _ he’s replied to, and his face feels a little flushed, for the berating he hadn’t been expecting but wasn’t completely unprepared for at this hour, maybe more for the company he hadn’t expected ringing his doorbell with arms full of food.

“I’m sorry, Myeon, maybe I came at a bad time,” Minseok says when the line goes, and the noodles are going cold in their containers. “I thought, you mentioned wanting Chinese food, so I thought to bring-”

“You’re not unwelcome, Min,” he sighs, quietly very touched that Minseok had thought of what he’d wanted to eat in passing and brought him some in the lateness of the night. “I actually was thinking to eat these noodles, but I wasn’t sure if any places were still open by the time I’d remembered to stop working. I’d been working all night and. I forgot to get up to eat.”

“You really shouldn’t skip meals,” he says, and his tone is warm and soft again. Junmyeon is aching with how much he likes it like this. “Do you want me to go? So you can get to work?”

“You came all this way,” he says, and he pauses. “And I don’t like eating alone,” he admits, and Minseok just nods, understanding. 

“Well, do you need help clearing up?” he asks, and Junmyeon knows he must be a nightmare of a person to be around, for someone as neat and organized as Minseok. His office is in a hurricane state, and he appreciates the lack of judgement in his tone and his genuine want to help with some cleaning. 

He decides not to deny himself, “Yeah, that would be really nice, thank you-”

They clean a bit together, mostly arranging some files and clearing up the desk so there’s a surface to arrange the food on, and clearing the drafting table of old drawings and tape to make way for the new revisions later on, and then they’re eating comfortably, together, without much thought, sharing containers of food and picking at each other’s servings. It’s easy, and Junmyeon gives himself the break. Takes the easy for now, as it is.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, a while ago,” Junmyeon says, “my dad. He’s a very good man, he doesn’t usually take work home. But this is an important project, it really was my fault for slacking on it so much.”

“You don’t need to explain, Myeon, you know I get it,” Minseok says, plopping a dumpling into his mouth. Junmyeon has to look away when it makes him look too endearing, with his mouth full of food and eyes large as he eats. “What were you working on, though? If you don’t mind me asking. Must have been a lot if you couldn’t work on your projects.”

“Ah, no, it wasn’t that,” he says, and he chews on a pearl as he drinks his tea. He thinks of how to reply, eventually settling with, “I was working on our project, for class.”

“Ah,” Minseok says, and he puts down his chopsticks. “Did we not split the work evenly? If I gave you too much to do, I’d be more than happy to take-“

“Oh, no, Minseok. The work is more than okay,” he says, shaking his head. The work was fine, the work made him excited and pretty happy. “I just get so lost up in it. I forget that I have an actual job, too.”

“I see,” he says, and he considers Junmyeon for a moment. “Are you sure?”

Junmyeon looks at him. He’s a little shocked himself when he leans forward and kisses Minseok, but it’s become something that’s been happening a little more often, a little more naturally as of late. 

“I’m sure, go eat your food,” he says, and Minseok blinks, a little dazed, but opens his mouth obediently when Junmyeon tries to feed him some noodles. 

Minseok ends up staying the night, Junmyeon unable to keep away and working on his revisions as they eat. Minseok keeps quiet mostly, cleaning up as he goes and watching as Junmyeon works, and when Junmyeon looks up, he meets his gaze steadily each time, looking as if he wants to offer his help, but. 

“I can do this, it’s fine,” he says, mostly to himself, and Minseok just sighs, but doesn’t say much else. “You’re free to stay, it’s a little late for you to be driving. I’m sure I have clothes that will be comfortable for you to sleep in, if you want.”

“You should rest too,” he says, but Junmyeon shakes his head as he moves his mouse around, going around his file on his program and making columns for support on his project, adding entourage on the way for the architectural perspective he’ll have to remember to plot later on for presentation.

“I have to finish as much as I can, I’d rather work now while I still have the drive for it,” he says, and Minseok frowns, but Junmyeon sips at his tea and goes back to his file. 

Minseok doesn’t push, and he disappears an hour or so later after he’s cleared their food containers and much of Junmyeon’s general clutter. When he comes back, he’s in some of Junmyeon’s old gym clothes, looking too comfortable and handsome, and he has this determined look in his eye. Junmyeon balks immediately.

“No, it’s not that late-”

“It’s four in the morning,” Minseok says with a straight face, and Junmyeon blinks at him. “You need to rest too. I know you have a lot of work, but you’ve been drawing the same set of columns for the past hour. You need some sleep.”

Junmyeon looks back at his computer screen quickly, realizes that Minseok had been watching and. He  _ had  _ been repeating the columns too many times. “But I really do have to work-”

“Then work after a few hours of rest, you’ll feel refreshed,” Minseok says, coming closer and taking Junmyeon’s hand in his. He leans forward and kisses him, taking a bit of maneuvering to sit on his lap. Junmyeon should feel annoyed, but his mind goes a little blank and Minseok’s weight on top of him is rather nice, and his lips are toothbrush-softened and clean. “Get a few hours, then you can wake up and work as much as you want.”

“You’ll wake me up?” he asks, trying to be cheeky, but his brain is catching up with his body and it comes out tired.

“Hmm,” Minseok just hums, pulling him up, saving his file for him thoughtfully, and Junmyeon is dragged to his room, his clothes taken off with deft hands, and he’s pulled under covers and held close, he’s out like a light quickly.

.

Minseok keeps his promise, a few hours later.

“Fuck,  _ fuck,  _ Min,” Junmyeon is woken with Minseok licking around his hole, hands spreading his cheeks and tongue making him wet.

“You looked really peaceful. Wanted to disrupt it a little,” Minseok says, squeezing his ass and pushing his tongue in deeper, and Junmyeon breathes sharply, fisting at sheets and writhing a little. 

“Have - have to work,” he says, and Minseok fucks in, making him gasp and shout.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok does, switching his attention from his hole to his cock, taking the tip into his mouth and sucking, and it’s a little filthy in the bright morning. Junmyeon looks down, watches as Minseok bobs his head up and down on his length and getting him fully hard with his mouth, and he stares at the ceiling aimlessly, trying to take in the sensations of his lips, making his legs shake. 

“You’re still tense from last night,” Minseok notes, sitting up and stripping himself, getting his cock in his hand and tugging. Junmyeon watches, sweat cooling on his skin, and Minseok cocks an eyebrow at him as he pumps his hips forward. He’s smug, and Junmyeon wants to get on his knees for him. “After making you sleep and everything. You’re really an architect, stupid sleep schedule and unhealthy work habits included.”

“What does that say of you, then?” Junmyeon says, sitting up and kissing him, getting his hands on his length as well. He grins against Minseok’s moan.

“Ah, ah,” Minseok grunts, squeezing the base of his cock and taking a pause. When he opens his eyes, they’re dark, and Junmyeon is excited for the prospect of it, “I have my outlets.”

“So do I,” Junmyeon replies, turning over and getting on his hands and knees. “Eat me out.”

“Brat,” Minseok says, but Junmyeon doesn’t hear him saying no, feels him get behind him, and his warm breath on his opening makes him shiver.

The first lick tracing his hole makes Junmyeon moan, hang his head low and breathe as Minseok kisses and takes his time with his ass. His thumbs pull him slightly apart, making him open for the next delve in, and he moves his hips back, wanting him deeper, wanting more. 

Minseok eats him out well, getting him wet and open, and Junmyeon gasps when a finger pushes in with his tongue, making him spread his knees further apart and he fights to not drop his hips, not to hump the bed. 

“Minseok,  _ fuck,”  _ he says, reaching back and pulling at hair, getting his ass in his face and taking two, then three fingers. “You going to fuck me?”

“Was planning on it,” he answers, and he’s reaching over, getting a condom and lube out from the nightstand. “Don’t be a brat.”

“Only for you,” he says, and Minseok just makes a tutting noise. A click, then the next time his fingers push in, they’re slicker, and Junmyeon makes a soft noise as his ass opens up around them, getting ready for his dick. 

The first push of his cock inside is tight, hard and throbbing and Junmyeon moans loud and long, his ass opening for him, and he feels it everywhere. 

“Oh,  _ oh Myeon,  _ you’re so tight,” Minseok breathes, moans, and he keeps pushing in, inching in until his hips are flush to Junmyeon’s ass. He rolls his hips, and Junmyeon drops his head, noises fighting their way out of his throat. “You always feel so good.”

“Harder, wake me up,” he bites out, and Minseok pulls his hips back, then fucks back in with a resounding slap of his hips, filling him up. The air is punched out of Junmyeon’s chest, one after the other as Minseok fucks in, in, pounding into him and making his knees weak.

MInseok’s hands settle on his hips decisively, gripping tight as he sinks into his body, pushing and pounding and it’s hard but not punishing, more than enough for Junmyeon to lose his mind a little but keep him  _ present,  _ and he’s never wanted to be more present for anything, feeling everything and making everything good for Minseok as he’s making it as good for him. 

Minseok pulls him back to his cock, pushing into his ass and he lowers his body down to Junmyeon’s, plastering his best to Junmyeon’s back. Their slick and sweat makes things a little tacky between them, the cold air of the morning not making things much easier, but they don’t move apart. 

“You good?” Minseok murmurs into his ear, and Junmyeon moans his assent as he’s fucked, his ass stretching around MInseok’s cock and taking him in, again and again. “Want this to last a little.”

“Greedy,” Junmyeon bites, and Minseok just chuckles as he rams in, hard, and Junmyeon gasps, knees sliding about. “You’re so unfair.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you there,” Minseok assures him, turning his head and kissing him. Junmyeon melts despite himself, pressing back and licking across Minseok’s lips, wanting in. 

He hums, lowers Junmyeon to the bed and settles on top of him, kissing and kissing as he rolls his hips languidly. His cock keeps him stretched as he fucks in with smooth rolls, taking his time and keeping him filled, and Junmyeon stretching his legs, gives him room and opens his mouth as Minseok licks in, lips slick with spit and things are very close, very intimate for many moments.

“Hmm,” Minseok hums, kissing his cheek and then his lips again. He’s close, so close, and Junmyeon squeezes around him, getting him to grunt. “Ah, _ ah,  _ Myeon.”

“Come on,” he tries to urge, but Minseok just tuts. “You’re being a dick.”

Minseok smirks, lowering his mouth to his neck and sucking as he fucks in hard, and Junmyeon gasps. Raises his hips and takes his cock again and again, his hole and body greedy and squeezing as he pulls out, squeezing as he pushes back in, making each push tight and toe-curling.

It goes on for several minutes, and then it’s much too long. Minseok finally,  _ finally,  _ gets back up on his knees, bringing Junmyeon’s ass up along and as he fucks forward, he pulls Junmyeon back onto him, impaling him. Junmyeon moans, his own cock swinging beneath him and spurting as he’s pounded, filled with cock and not much room for anything else.

“Gonna fill you up,” Minseok says, usually controlled voice sounding strained, tight, and he rams into him faster, rougher. “Think you can come without touching yourself?”

“The  _ fuck,”  _ Junmyeon bites out, looking over his shoulder and glaring. “You’re not serious.”

“I really think you can,” Minseok says, eyes glinting as he moves his hips, fucking in.

“You said you’d get me there.”

“And I  _ will,”  _ Minseok says, kissing him again, and he kneels back up, and fucks in, in, in, punching the air out of his chest with each push of his hips.

Junmyeon drops his head back down, feeling overwhelmed and his cock too hard, and he doesn’t want to admit it to Minseok, but this, being fucked open with sure thrusts, makes him close. He’s pounded with these thrusts, one after the other, and he hides his face in his arms as Minseok pushes in, the stretch of his ass around his cock a lot in the early morning hour. 

Minseok goes even faster, making short noises as he fucks forward over and over into his ass, and Junmyeon moans as his ass is smacked by his hips, spread open with sure thumbs and leaving him just a bit more open for his cock. 

“Oh, Junmyeon, if you could see what I’m seeing,” Minseok says, sounding every bit as affected as Junmyeon feels, and he fucks him harder, his cock perfect inside him. “You’re stretched around me, just  _ taking it-“ _

“Make me take it faster then,” Junmyeon grits out, but he’s losing his fire, desperation and want seeping into his voice, and Minseok does as he’s asked for once. Fucks him faster, harder, and Junmyeon loses his breath. Drops to his elbows and takes his cock into his ass, and he’s  _ gone.  _

He comes out of nowhere, his orgasm just barreling into him and he yells, gasps as he comes and shooting his load over his sheets, and he hears Minseok’s breath stutter behind him, his hips shoving in with less grace, harder and less timed and he’s grinding in, filling the condom as he milks his own orgasm into Junmyeon.

He pulls out of him, lowering him to the clean side, and he’s covering his body with his, kissing him and touching everywhere. Junmyeon hums, sighing into his mouth and licking across his teeth, sinking into everything. 

“Told you you could come with being touched,” Minseok says smugly, and Junmyeon would roll his eyes, but he’d just come and he’s not quite in the state of mind. 

“You know my body well,” he says, and it’s a little thoughtless, but he can’t be fucked to really make himself do words and thoughts. It’s too early and he’s just had a melting orgasm and he’s already trying to ignore work, just for a few more hours. 

“Hmm, you know mine too,” Minseok says, licking up his throat, and Junmyeon sighs again, pulling him in and kissing him.  

The doorbell going off doesn’t make them pull apart, but they pause on each other’s lips, blinking at each other. 

“You have guests 7 in the morning?” Minseok raises an eyebrow, and Junmyeon groans, rolling over and trying to find some pants. He knows exactly who it is, knows only a few people who would bother him at this time,  _ any  _ time really, the question was more of  _ for what reason,  _ today. 

“I’ll tell them to leave,” he says to Minseok, just for him to hum and lay back on the pillows, looking fucked but still ready for more. Junmyeon swallows, considers his options, but knows he can’t ignore the door. They’ll just keep ringing otherwise. 

He barely opens the door when Sehun is towing off his shoes and grinning at him, pointing at the person next to him. “Look who’s back from China!”

“Hello, Zitao,” Junmyeon smiles kindly at Sehun’s boyfriend, who’s just as much of a menace in a different way but is kind and soft all the same, polite as he bows and coming forward embrace Junmyeon in a hug. 

“Oh, Junmyeon, you reek of sex,” Zitao says frankly, and Baekhyun makes himself known with a loud laugh, and Junmyeon wonders how they can have so much energy for so early in the morning. 

“Good to know all that training in the mountains hasn’t dulled your blunt edge, then,” Junmyeon sighs, and he’s thinking of a way to get rid of them, wanting to get back in bed and maybe pin Minseok to the mattress. 

“It wasn’t in the  _ mountains-“ _

“Yah, you  _ stink,  _ and you’re marked all over,” Baekhyun pokes at his neck, and Junmyeon squirms away, the spot sensitive. He probably should have put on a shirt, but there’s not much for it now. “He got you everywhere. Must have gotten it  _ really-“ _

“Is there any particular reason why the three of you are here  _ now?”  _ Junmyeon cuts him off, and his hair must be all over the place, too. Maybe he should have checked for cum stains too before he’d gone out, Sehun’s gaze on his general stomach area too lingering. “Because if not-“

“Zitao, straight from the airport,” Sehun answers, beaming, and Junmyeon figured as much. 

“That’s nice, but I really want to kick the three of you out now.”

“Well that’s rude, Myeon.”

All the heads in the room look to the new voice, and Minseok is coming in, dressed in Junmyeon’s gym pants and his hair a little more fixed, but he doesn’t seem to be hiding much else either. Then again, he hadn’t had his waist gripped tight, marks made all over his body. He’s relatively unscathed. 

“I was just about to make them leave,” Junmyeon sighs, and Minseok looks at him reproachfully as he comes nearer, approaching the kitchen counter and starting the coffee machine. 

“For what?” He knows full well what, and the look on his face tells Junmyeon he knows it too. He scowls at the smirk he’s given. “You need to get back to work. I won’t distract you. These your friends?”

“Relative term,” Junmyeon says to many affronted noises. 

“Hi Baekhyun,” Minseok greets him, and Junmyeon blinks. 

“You know him?”

“He’s Yixing’s boyfriend.”

_ “Your  _ Yixing?”

“Hmm,” he hums, and Baekhyun frowns. 

_ “Your Yixing?!” _

“He’s devoted to you, you idiot,” Minseok says nonchalantly. “And I  _ clearly  _ just slept with Junmyeon, you’re so freakishly attached, like I’d touch him when Myeon is right there.”

“Excuse you, but Yixing is a  _ god-“ _

They argue back and forth, Baekhyun getting heated up over his boyfriend being passed over while Minseok remains clearly unaffected, and Junmyeon’s mind goes a little haywire.

Less for Minseok meeting them this way, less for the way Minseok somehow knows Baekhyun and more for how Minseok is clearly much more rooted in his life than he’d thought. Maybe because Minseok had so casually admitted their intimate relationship in front of people he’d just met. Maybe because he just so freely admits his attraction to Junmyeon, how he doesn’t look at anyone else when Junmyeon exists, and. 

Junmyeon doesn’t think he’d ever had someone like that. Much less someone he’s not supposed to completely like, especially, but they’re far past that, now. He thinks he can’t quite deny that this, whatever complicated thing this is, is much. More. 

“Yah, Myeon.”

He snaps his head back up, staring at Sehun and Zitao as Baekhyun continues bickering with Minseok. Zitao gives him this sly smile, and Junmyeon stares at him, trying to glare it away. 

“We’re having dinner tonight, for Zitao’s homecoming,” Sehun says just as Baekhyun and Minseok tune back in, “after Baek’s show. Would you come?”

“My last night too,” Baekhyun says, “before I start rehearsals for  _ Phantom.  _ Big night. I contacted Heechul too, and he kind of. Invited your class-“

“Baek, what the  _ fuck,  _ how do you even know Heechul-“

“Bring your friends too, Minnie,” Baekhyun says, and Minseok raises an eyebrow at him, pouring out his coffee deftly. 

“Yixing already invited us last week,” he answers. 

“I really have to finish my revisions,” he says, feels genuinely apologetic, even though it’s a clusterfuck of people who really have no business mingling but it’s whatever, it’s his life so things just work out that way, and as much as he kind of wants to see it happen, he really, really,  _ really  _ does need to work and finish this. “I can’t really avoid it much longer,” he says, conceding and admitting Minseok did have a point earlier and not needing distractions. Round 2 would have to come another day. 

“Oh, Junmyeon, I waited two  _ years  _ for this dinner to happen,” Sehun pouts, and Junmyeon, as much as Sehun knows too much about his life and is too comfortable with using his appliances and apartment when his is just as nice, knows how much this means to him. 

“I’m two weeks behind on this project, I really can’t afford to take the time out,” Junmyeon says, frowning to himself. 

“I’ll help you,” Minseok says definitively, not leaving room for much argument, and Junmyeon looks at him. “I. I know you might not be comfortable with me working on your things, but I’m decent with structurals and I know an extra renderer is a lot of help, and if we both do it now, we should be able to finish by the afternoon. So you can go to the show and dinner.”

“Min, I can’t ask you to do that,” Junmyeon says, feeling a little flushed. “It’s  _ my  _ work, my responsibility, you shouldn’t have to think about doing that too when you have your own stuff going on.”

“You  _ can  _ do the work,” Minseok says, handing him a mug of coffee to match his own. The smell is comforting and warm in Junmyeon’s hands. “It’s just. I think you deserve to have a night to this. And I don’t mind helping you, Myeon. I’d actually really like to. Let me.”

Junmyeon blinks, tries to read his face, but Minseok is frustratingly open and genuine. He just sees what he’s already said, and Junmyeon finds himself saying, “If you’re sure.”

“Of course I am,” he says, smiling, finally allowed. “Just tell me what to do.”

“How domestic,” Sehun says offhandedly. Junmyeon wants to spill the drink onto his foot, but it would be such a waste of good coffee and Minseok’s efforts. 

He doesn’t know why, but the others stick around and use his game consoles, lounging about as Junmyeon and Minseok lock themselves in the office and work. Minseok didn’t need much instruction, quick on the uptake and working quietly, efficiently, and Junmyeon fights to keep his focus and not watch him, working on what he needs to finish himself.

It takes the afternoon, and the sun is setting by the time Junmyeon is satisfied enough to save a final file for the firm’s perusal later, but it’s more or less done. 

He’d kissed Minseok in thanks, and Minseok smiled against his lips, and it  _ is  _ domestic, and it’s not as frightening as he’d thought it would be. 

The show is amazing. Baekhyun is particularly perfect and Yixing had been the perfect boyfriend with flowers and tears, and Zitao and Sehun are stupidly happy. Junmyeon leans against Minseok, hands on each other’s thighs as they watch Heechul and Chanyeol teach Jongin how to open a soju bottle properly and Yifan and Luhan slowly corrupt Jongdae, Kyungsoo smirking at everything subtly. It’s a good night, a bit of a clusteruck like Junmyeon had predicted, but he’s thankful he’d taken Minseok on his offer, for all of it. 

.

It’s weeks of work, class, and it’s crunch time for final submissions for the year. His revisions had gone over well, and it gives him a bit of leeway with the class requirements he has, and he and Minseok work at each other’s places more often than not to get everything a bit more sorted. 

It takes Minseok knocking on his door one morning, bouquet of flowers in hand, to even realize that he’d planned on working away his birthday. He’d completely forgotten that it was coming up. 

“I, I forgot about that,” he says, staring at the flowers, then at Minseok, who’s tilting his head at him and watching him curiously. “These, these are really lovely. I just completely forgot.”

And they are. Sunflowers, bright and sunshine and wonderful, and they make Junmyeon’s chest warm, almost as much as the softness in Minseok’s gaze. 

“Well, you should take them,” Minseok says, a little shyly as he waves the flowers, and Junmyeon takes them gingerly, touching the petals carefully. They’re stupidly sweet, and he’s not beyond blushing. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, Min,” he says, smiling, not hiding his beam, and he comes forward, pulling him close and kissing him, feeling a little overwhelmed and very, very touched. He kisses him deep, and Minseok holds his face in his hands, too perfect for him and yet still holding him adoringly. Junmyeon kisses him and kisses him. 

“I just wanted to drop these off before I go,” Minseok says against his mouth, and Junmyeon hums. “I’ll be on-site the whole of the week, out of town. I’ll be back for the presentation, but I won’t be able to spend the day with you. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, I completely forgot myself,” he says, and the week sounds dull already without him, but this is a wonderful surprise to get this morning. He’s considerably much brighter already. “Thank you for these. Thank you for seeing me before you go.”

“Of course,” Minseok says simply, as if it’s a thing he’d truly wanted to do, the last bit of his free morning given to Junmyeon to give him something simple, but meaningful. Junmyeon knows he really does mean it. “I hope you have a good day. Don’t work too much.”

He hums, and Minseok kisses him first, holding him close and Junmyeon melts into him, feeling everything. 

“Bye,” he says, kissing him again, and Junmyeon goes back for a little more, unable to separate. 

He leaves, waving a little, and Junmyeon watches him go, and out of the corner of his eye, Sehun peeks out of his own door, waiting until he’s in the elevator and out before he speaks up.

“You always forget your birthday.”

“I’m busy.”

“First time someone remembered that wasn’t me or Baek, though. First to give you flowers too. You  _ can’t  _ not be in love with him, it’s unrealistic.”

It is. But Junmyeon just waves his sunflowers at him, locking his door behind him and looking for a vase, trying to not think too much into his pounding heart.

.

The week without Minseok had been predictably dull. Junmyeon had been prepared for it, but it doesn’t make it any less fun. 

Junmyeon had given Minseok flowers in turn, when he’d come back in class. Everyone, primarily Heechul, had been merciless with their teasing, but when he’d caught Minseok sniffing at the roses he’d gotten him, smiling as he’d taken a picture, he’d known it had been a good thing.

The  presentation goes well. Really well, and he and Minseok receive top marks and a really pleased panel. They all have an end-of-year dinner together as a class, and Minseok sits next to him, then kisses him as they’d brought out the meat for grilling.

Yifan and Heechul has been merciless, bringing out phones and zooming in cameras on them, and Minseok didn’t flinch. Simply held his hand and waited for a quiet moment to kiss him again, acting completely like a boyfriend. Junmyeon is shyer about it, shyer than he’d expected, but he can’t deny how warm it makes him feel, Minseok’s gaze quiet and strong, and it’s been a good semester. 

It gets better, when he’s called into his father’s office and offered a position to head a team on a project, and _ the project. _

“National museum, they’ve been looking to convert these preserved houses and house a few national treasures in a new wing,” his father explains, and it’s a  _ dream.  _ “National historical commission was looking for a private company to tie in. You came heavily recommended.”

It has Minseok all over it, and it’s not even subtle. Junmyeon bites his lips a little, wanting to cry and  _ project head, _ on something he’d always wanted to do. 

“Why me?” he asks, and his father smiles. It’s not a rare thing, exactly, but in the context of work, it means everything. Not that he looks for his father’s approval in everything he does, but this does mean a lot.

“Their team leader had many words of praise,” and  _ Minseok.  _ “You were the only choice they’d proposed.”

“I want to do it,” he admits, and he figures that he doesn’t have much to lose at this point. As soon as he says it, he thinks, _ maybe it should feel more monumental than this,  _ but he realizes quickly that things that are supposed to feel monumental and important are really still just moments. They pass, and before it sinks in fully that  _ shit this is a thing that’s happening, _ they’re over a lot more quickly than it would seem.

He’s been working himself up too much for something in the end that really was so simple, painless. A pretty wonderful thing, really.

He thinks of Minseok all of a sudden. His eyes widen and he tries to not choke on his stubbornness.

“Then you should go do it,” he replies, something like acceptance in his tone, and just like that. Junmyeon breathes, and it’s relief, all relief. “I’d think their previous project head would be severely disappointed if you didn’t get it. He’d rattled many cages.”

“‘Previous project head?’” he pauses, blinks.

“He had to leave the project,” he waves around the dossier.  _ “‘Pursuing doctorate studies in China.’” _

And his monumental moment is over and Junmyeon is  _ confused  _ and  _ hurt  _ and that’s how Junmyeon finds himself going to Minseok’s place later that night, wanting an explanation, but before he even really gets to say anything, they fall into it and find themselves in bed again, Minseok breathing hard and twisting his body gingerly after Junmyeon had come in him, and Junmyeon is getting frustrated with himself, the words he keeps wanting to say never making themselves out. 

“Congratulations on the museum,” Minseok breaks their sex silence, bringing the covers up around their waists, and Junmyeon huffs, still annoyed but really more sad. 

“You didn’t tell me about your PhD,” he mutters, and Minseok goes quiet for a moment.

“We don’t really talk a lot,” he says. “I mean, we do, we talk and I really do like talking to you. But these things, it’s a little hard, isn’t it?”

“We’re not like that,” he says in turn, admitting. “This thing, that we do, it’s weird.”

“Then I’ll talk now,” Minseok says, turning his head a little on the pillow, and Junmyeon’s chest kind of just explodes a little when he looks at him. There are many little moments between them, and a lot of the time, he doesn’t even notice that it’s a  _ thing  _ until after it happens, and that’s fine, he likes it still even though it’s weird.

It’s not lost on him now, though, that this is  _ a moment.  _ And he can’t ignore the way Minseok is lacing their fingers together is making his eyes sting, his chest painful and they’re weird and he’s realized how tired he is of not admitting how he feels.

“You know I’m in love with you,” Minseok says, simply, straight to the point. And Junmyeon, he did know, but never gave it the name because he didn’t know what to call it. He feels so oddly soft, and he didn’t think he’d feel like this ever, because they’re weird and not dramatic but plenty stupid. “You make me feel a lot of things, and it’s okay if you hate me or if you’re sad or worried. I get all that, and I understand it’s confusing because our thing isn’t really what’s done with couples.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok kind of smiles.

“But I love you. That’s all there is to it.”

“But I don’t understand,” he mumbles, pulling at Minseok’s fingers and playing with them, and his eyes are too soft. “Why?”

Minseok looks at him, and Junmyeon doesn’t look away. He inches closer, and their faces are inches away from each other. 

“When I look at you, I feel like there’s a fire, burning in my chest and lighting me up from the inside. It didn’t take very long for me to realize that the fire wasn’t hate,” he says, and Junmyeon feels choked, eyes burning and face flushed, because thinking about it, yes. It’s true, for him too. “We were already pretty much a couple, Junmyeon. We were just stubborn.”

“I love you too,” he admits, and it’s so simple, so freeing. It’s a  _ moment _ and he knows it, this time, and it’s quick but he wants to stay in it. “But you still didn’t tell me about China.”

“Do you want me to not go?”

“You  _ should,  _ you’re crazy to not take the chance,” he says, glaring at him, and Minseok laughs, turning a bit and holding him close, kissing his cheek. “It’s China. It’s  _ China,  _ fuck, that’s not exactly near.”

“I realize,” he says, smiling sadly, and Junmyeon sighs, because things are going really, really,  _ really  _ right and Minseok’s Chinese PhD is kind of marring his moments.

“Come back so you can teach and be insufferable to college kids and sleep with me every night and so I can love you,” he says, and it’s the cheesiest thing he’s ever said in his life. He has no plans of repeating it, but Minseok’s lips quirk beautifully and his gaze goes so so soft, and he tacks on, “I mean, I’ll love you anyway when you’re in China and everything getting smarter, but. I just wanted to reiterate.”

“I’ll love you when I’m in China too,” Minseok says, pressing his lips to Junmyeon’s and it’s easy as breathing. “Ah. We’re turning into your friends.”

“No,” Junmyeon says in horror that’s only a little feigned. “Sehun will never let me live it down.”

_ “I  _ would never live it down,” Minseok says, and he’s smiling quietly again. “Okay. I’ll hold you to your word. Sleep with you every night?”

“I see, so that’s what you’re after,” Junmyeon says, “that’s how it is-”

“Ah, I love you,” Minseok repeats, pulling him closer still and kissing him soundly.

It’s a quick moment. But the little moments add up, and Junmyeon lets them pass, knowing the next ones will be as good.

.

.

Junmyeon isn’t really opposed to the cold, usually, but the site up in Yanggu is strangely freezing for this time of year, and he’d had to extend his stay for another week because of the conditions of the weather not agreeing with the houses they’d been preserving. 

Minseok had just come back from a two-week conference in Changsha with Yixing and gone straight to the university for class when he’d returned from the airport, so they’d barely had a morning together, so he’s a little short-tempered with the knocking on his door so early in the morning.

He’d think that his co-project head could handle things and keep their eyes on the contractor until he’d gotten to the site proper, but when he opens the door to berate him, Minseok is on the other side instead, holding a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Yah, what are you doing here?” he says, taking the flowers, and his tone must still be a little cross, because Minseok blinks at him, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you have plates to check?”

“That’s next week,” he replies, getting his hands on his waist and greeting him with a gentle kiss. “You’re angry to see me? I just got here, seems like you’re ready to fight.”

“I’m not fighting, I just don’t want to be too pleased so I’m channeling my energy in another way,” he says, and Minseok tuts at him, rolling his eyes. Junmyeon isn’t so strong to not kiss him again, however.

They visit the site together, much like the same way they did a few years ago for their paired project for class, and many things are different from the last time. The houses are being preserved and the air is fresher and they’re together, properly this time, hand in hand and Junmyeon is the one showing Minseok around now, explaining what they’ve been doing with everything. Things are no longer complicated, for the most part, and it’s a good life.

He turns around, and life gets exponentially better when Minseok is down on his knee in front of him, ring held carefully in his fingers, soft smile gracing his stupidly handsome face.

“Stop shitting around,” Junmyeon blurts out, and Minseok blinks at him slowly, his gorgeous smile slipping from his face, and Junmyeon is feeling a little awful for sounding so disbelieving. “You’re joking.”

“I’m really not,” he says slowly, but he doesn’t get up, doesn’t bring his hand down either. “Um, do you not want to get married?”

And at this point, Junmyeon is the one rolling his eyes, because reaching into his own coat pocket and showing him the ring he’d been planning to propose him with, when he’d gotten back from this site visit.

“Does this have to be a competition too?” Minseok asks him, and he’s grinning despite his irritated tone, his happiness betraying his question, and Junmyeon is the same. A wonderful, fucking beautiful moment, and this time, it lingers a little. 

“Yes,” he answers, to Minseok’s verbalized question and the one he’d asked wordlessly when he’d gotten down on his knee. “Yes, let’s get married.”

Minseok’s beautiful eyes light up and shine, and Junmyeon leans down to kiss him, taking his ring and giving his own, and it had been simple enough, nothing like he’d planned, but he’s more than happy. The moments have been good to him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> xiuharem lyf for me
> 
>  
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> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/markxiuyeols)
> 
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> [tumblr](http://www.castlenarry.tumblr.com)


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